I know the moment it begins, having been down this path far too many times.
And yet, like always, I hope this time it will end differently.
It starts with a gentle hint ~ a whispered promise followed by an unexpected touch and a slow inviting caress. I am certain it’s an empty promise, but perhaps, maybe, this time, things will be different.
As always, I tilt my head upward, waiting for the warm touch on my face, feeling the same warmth spread throughout my body while both remembering the last time and hopeful that this time, the promise may last just a while longer.
Like always, the touch is impossible to ignore and I know full well that I am being seduced, but the air is lighter, sweeter and my mind begins to spin at the promise of things to come.
All to quickly, it seems, I am looking for signs that it’s more than just a fling, and sure enough, even nature has bowed to your siren call…a bud here, a leaf there and the warm promise of spring is in full swing. The creeks slow to a gentle trickle while dark grey skies give way to soft blue hues and an occasional wisp of a cloud.
Hard as I might try to resist you, I know it’s useless. February has seduced me once again into believing that winter is gone and spring has finally arrived.
I do want to believe. Heavy coats get tucked back into the closets, sweaters folded away, windows are flung open and fresh mild breezes sweep out both the dust and heaviness of winter.
The cat ventures outside, more cautious than I, squinting at the unfamiliar sun before arching his back and stretching out in the warmth to nap once again.
Neighbors are out, playing golf in shorts and short sleeve shirts that were found buried in dressers, laughing at the rustiness of their game while calling to one another as though they haven’t seen others in far too many months. Walkers stroll with heads held high and arms swinging, no longer wrapped in layers of protective clothing and hunched over against the chilling winds and rains. And they notice, smiling, the soft green of spring’s new growth.
Ah, February. I know you’re just a siren call, a con artist at best. Just as soon as I get use to your warm embrace, my limbs limber without being confined by layers of clothes or winter’s stiffness, you’ll smile your seductive smile one more time before vanishing into the chill of yet another winter storm.